Meet You There
by Colorofyoursmilex812
Summary: Trapped within the grasp of the Capitol, this is Peeta's recollection of the time he spent hijacked and controlled by President Snow, tortured by his memories. Songifc. THIS STORY IS NOT YET COMPLETE!
1. Part One

Part One

I'm tossed, blind-folded and disoriented onto the cold cement floor. My body screams in protest as a jolt of pain shoots through my muscles. I land in a crumpled heap, making no efforts to move. A rough hand tears the fabric away from my eyes and I barely have time for them to readjust before I see the barred door closing swiftly shut.

With my cheek pressed against the damp floor, I can see that I am in a tiny room with stone walls on every side. I make out the sound of a soft _beep_ from the other side of the steel door and I can now assume that I have been locked inside. My first and second attempts to sit up lead only to blurry vision and the feeling of passing out. So I try again, slowly this time, using the wall to prop myself up so I'm supporting very little of my own weight. With a clearer perspective of the room, I can see that there is a small shelf jutting out of the far wall which I can only imagine is supposed to be the bed. Next to it, a shallow bucket. I don't have the right mindset at the moment to be disgusted by that.

The longer I sit against the clammy wall, the less hazy all of my thoughts seem. The one thing that I still cannot pin point however is why exactly I ended up here. This room… this atmosphere… it seems as if I'm being held… _prisoner!_

In a matter of seconds, it all comes flooding back to me. The mental dam that had been blocking my most vital memories has been broken and each thought hits me like a ton of bricks.

Katniss kissing me goodbye as she ran off into the woods with that electrical coil. The last whisper of her voice, "Don't worry. I'll see you at midnight." Running frantically through the woods in an attempt to save her from the careers. Screaming her name, but hearing her replies fading slowly away among the branches. That dazzling blue light that surrounded the arena as the lightning struck. The explosions all around me. The hovercraft pulling me inside as I fought tooth and nail, shouting her name again and again.

"Katniss." I mumble, my throat tightening as I realize I may never see that face that belongs to that name again.

_**Now you're gone,  
>I wonder why<br>You left me here,  
>I think about it on, and on,<br>and on, and on, and on, again.**_

I curl up on the small bed, my feet hanging over the end, and try to warm myself by wrapping my arms around my torso. It's no use. The shivers due to cold have long since subsided as I become more adjusted to the temperature in my cinderblock cell; however nothing can stop my trembling from fear and anguish.

I have heard the cries of my other prison mates being brought in and locked in their cells as well, but none of them sound like her. None of their cries at night, or the sounds of their breathing that I can catch when the guard opens my door. She is not here. I bite the inside of my cheek and try to push her to the far corners of my mind.

I count the blocks on the wall repeatedly, slower each time, to keep my mind distracted. Eventually, four hundred and thirty two squares are not enough to keep the thoughts from surfacing.

My only goal in the games had been to protect her, and I had failed. Here, trapped in this little room, I have no way of getting to her. Every time that thought forces it's way to the front of my mind, breathing becomes harder and my heart begins to race. She is strong, yes, but my instinct to keep her safe has never left me and although she is very capable of defending herself, I can only imagine the horrors she is facing right now.

If only she hadn't left me at that stupid lightning tree. If I had gone with her as guard, maybe I would still be with her right now, wherever that may be. Then my stomach turns as I remember her offer to separate from the group earlier on. Had we done that, I could still be there, keeping her out of harm's way. But no, she had left with Johanna and that was the last memory I had of her; her beautiful face glancing one last time over her shoulder as she disappeared into the darkness.

_**I know you're never coming back,  
>I hope that you can hear me,<br>I'm waiting to hear from you..  
><strong>_

The nightmares that night are nothing like I have ever experienced before. Horrible images passing in front of my eyes like a never ending film reel. I wake up in a pool of sweat and glance around, not yet adjusted to the new surroundings… or lack thereof. When I hear my cell door bang open I sit bolt upright, my muscles tensing as I wait to see what is going to be done to me. However, like the past two instances, only food is slid across the floor from some unknown hand, and I am once again locked inside.

I get up and angrily kick the tray of food across the room, watching as it crashes into the other two. Dry bread and bottles of water remain untouched in the pile, unappealing to me. Now, what I crave more than anything is the soft touch of her skin as we protected each other from our night terrors.

I manage two more full days with no food or water before I begin to feel the pain of it. After staring longingly at the full bottles of water for more than an hour, I break down, crawling weakly across the floor. I break the seal and take a long swig from the bottle. It takes me only seconds to notice that something is off. Before the fog completely overcomes me, I call out her name again, praying that somehow she can hear it.

_**Until I do,  
>You're gone away,<br>I'm left alone,  
>A part of me is gone.<strong>_

I come to, sitting upright in a hard, metal-backed chair. When I try to move around and see where I am, I quickly realize that I am bound in place by shackles on my wrists and feet. There is also some sort of brace around my neck and forehead, preventing me from turning my head in any direction.

From what I can tell, I am now in a different room then the cell. A medical room, perhaps? The walls are a fresh white color and the smell reminds me of a hospital. I jump as a cool hand brushes my shoulder, the smell of roses abruptly over powering the antiseptic smell that had recently filled my nostrils. From behind the chair walks President Snow, looking out of place in this room, wearing his stiff suit.

"Well hello, Peeta," he says calmly, taking a seat on the stool across from me. My body begins to shudder and I am suddenly wishing I was back in that confined little cell. Everything about this encounter feels wrong, and not only because I am being held firmly in this chair against my will.

I swallow deeply, wondering how frightened Katniss had been when she had first spoken with President Snow. "Hello President," I try to say in an even tone. If my shaking had not already given away how scared I was, I wasn't going to let it be heard in my voice.

"I want to start off by saying that you are safe here now," he tells me, almost as if he forgot that I was being shackled to this chair. My mouth opens slightly in disbelief and I pull against the restraints to make a point. He waves them off with his hand, "Those are merely a precaution so that you don't hurt yourself. As you may have noticed, we have mended your hands. I would advise strongly against hitting those stone walls, I doubt you will do damage to anything other than yourself."

I feel my face get hot, remembering how last night I had begun to punch the wall closest to me out of sheer anguish. The first of my many nightmares had been about Katniss being tortured in the room next to mine, me listening to her cries of pain, unable to do anything. When I had awoken, it took me a good five minutes to determine that it wasn't real.

"On another note, I have brought you here hoping to speak to you about something important," he says, fiddling with the button on his sleeve. I figure it best not to say anything at this point, so I sit, watching him and waiting to hear what he has to say.

"I have already warned Miss Everdeen, though I'm sure she has already told you, about how I believe our nation is facing the risk of rebellion. This of course is due, in part, to your little stunt at the end of last year's games," he pauses, allowing me to reminisce.

I'm transported back onto the grass where Katniss and I knelt, watching each other with pained looks in our eyes and poisonous berries in our hands, threatening to kill ourselves unless the Capitol took us both as winners. Tears well up in my eyes as I remember what we were willing to do for each other. I've long since accepted that she may not love me as I love her, but in that moment, we weren't willing to continue without one another. I only wish I could have her that close again.

"Ah, I see you do recall that moment," he states, interrupting my thoughts. "Well, I must say that this has caused a little disturbance among some of our districts. This is of course unfortunate, for we do not wish to destroy anyone unnecessarily."

I stifle my gasp, realizing how truly horrible this man actually is. However, sitting here, I have no choice but to listen to him.

"Katniss has failed to prevent any of these potential uprisings, if not made them worse along your tour of the districts. And of course, now that she has ran off with the rebels of 13 and made a mockery of my games, there is no hope of using her to my advantage any longer."

My heart momentarily skips a beat, "Ran…off?" I question frantically, "What are you talking about?"

The corners of his mouth turn up in a menacing smirk and all of a sudden, I'm scared of his answer. "Katniss and a few of the other remaining tributes were airlifted from the arena during an unplanned infiltration and taken to district 13. We believe they plan to use her as a symbol for the rebellion. What I'm asking of you, is to help keep the districts calm. I would like you to be a symbol to contradict her."

My head is spinning from the weight of this information. District 13? Rebels? Katniss, there… without me?

"So she's…" I start, my voice catching in my throat.

"No Peeta, she is no longer an ally of yours," he finishes harshly. "She is long gone."

He stands up, and presses a button on the wall next to me, causing the shackles to release me. Two guards step from somewhere behind me, replacing the bindings with their firm grip, half leading, half dragging me towards the door.

President Snow stares deep into my eyes, and I feel all the blood draining from my face, being in this close of a proximity to him. "I expect you to do this for me Peeta. For Panem. You should no longer be doing this for Katniss's sake. She is gone."

And with that he leaves the room. I feel a prick of something in the corner of my elbow and before I know it, the room is becoming fuzzy again. Just before I go completely under her face swims across my vision one last time, and my mind protests against something he has said. She is not gone. Not yet at least.

_**And I'm not moving on,  
>So wait for me,<br>I know the day will come..**_

* * *

><p>A.N. - Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed the first part of this story. I need lots of reviews to determine whether or not I should post the rest of it. So be sure to let me know what you think!<p> 


	2. Part Two

Part Two

I wake up on cold surface of the bed, a little confused as to what had happened over the past few hours. As my body begins to wake up, I start to recall the meeting I had with President Snow. I tremble a little once I can fully remember everything that had been said. It is hard to wrap my mind around the fact that Katniss is there fighting against the Capitol… without me. My heart stings a little more as I remember that Gale is probably with her as well. I know that he would not miss a chance at fighting with the rebels.

I notice that a new tray of food has been placed on the floor next to the bed. I have completely lost track of time while confined here, so I have no idea if this is breakfast, lunch, or dinner. I do notice though that the bread is still warm and has a slightly greenish tint to it – district four, one of my favorites. I slowly eat it piece by piece, letting my hollow stomach adjust to the sensation of food again.

After finishing the salty bread, my dry throat aches for something to quench it. As opposed to a bottle, this time there is a small cup of yellow juice sitting at the corner of the tray. Hoping that this is not another trick to sedate me, I tentatively sip the juice. After a moment or two without any noticeable side effects, I gulp down the rest, instantly wishing I had more.

Almost as if someone had been listening to my thoughts, a voice suddenly fills the room.

"There is more of it where that came from," I hear President Snow say, his voice echoing against the stone walls, "But you must agree to cooperate."

I slouch down on the bed, leaning my head back against the wall and stare up at the ceiling, waiting for him to say more. There is a moment of silence.

"First, before we continue with another meeting, I would like to show you what you have missed during the time you have been here. It has been nearly two weeks since we removed you from the games," he said, surprising me.

I guess he can somehow see the reaction on my face, from where ever he is, and he adds, "We kept you sedated for a long time while we attempted to repair the damage done to you during those last few minutes in the games."

That would definitely explain how much time had passed. To me, every hour goes by so agonizingly slow. I continue to look around the ceiling, trying to find the source of his voice. After a minute or so, I sigh.

"What did you want to show me?" I ask, knowing how defeated I sounded.

Suddenly, an image is projected on the wall in front of me; live broadcasts that the Capitol has been playing throughout the districts over the past couple weeks. District after district, individually rebelling against the Capitol and the President himself. I can't believe my eyes. How is this happening so fast?

As I watch these broadcasts, my eyes are ever searching the backgrounds, looking for a flash of a braid, or the color of her eyes, coming up short with each one. Katniss is nowhere to be found amongst these shots, so she must still be hunkered down in district 13, doing who knows what. I want so badly to be there with her. I was going to get there somehow.

The screen disappears and Snow's voice fills my room once more.

"I would like to meet with you later today. And no, that is not a question or a simple invitation. You will be brought to me to discuss things further. And if all goes well, we could be getting you out of that box you are currently living in." he tells me coldly.

He finishes with "That is all," and leaves me to my thoughts for the next few hours.

_**I'll meet you there,  
>No matter where life takes me to,<br>I'll meet you there,  
>And even if I need you here,<br>I'll meet you there.**_

I know that no matter how much I cooperate with Snow, there is no way that I will be leaving here for district 13. It was probably the one thing he was trying to prevent the most. And no matter how hard I try, I can't come up with a single escape plan. I know nothing about the building I am being kept in, or for that matter, where the building is even located. I have only seen this room and the medical room, and nothing in between. I am completely clueless.

This realization greatly distressed me. There is so much I wanted to tell her. I had not been shy with my feelings over the past months. She knew exactly how I felt about her. Yet, I was still unsure of how she truly felt for me. Some of our exchanges were so forced, so mechanical, that I couldn't delude myself into believing any of it. Others though, like a select few moments within the games, I could've sworn there was something so much stronger.

I wish that I had had more time to convince her. Time away from the games, and our stylists, and the screaming crowds of people. More time with just the two of us, alone, face to face, no more secrets. I want to tell her more of how I had fallen in love with her as we grew older. How my need to protect her is because I simply cannot picture my life without her. And now that I was being forced to do that, I'm so scared.

_**I wish I could have told you,  
>The things I kept inside,<br>But now I guess its just too late.**_

I'm not sure how much time has passed, but I am dragged back out of my thoughts by the same two guards standing in my doorway. I guess this means they are going to let me walk myself this time, instead of drugging me first. I allow them to grip my upper arms and lead me through a maze of hallways.

The plush red carpeting and the dark oak wood on the walls tell me that this must be somewhere in the President's mansion. I recognize the features from some of his live broadcasts on television. Still, as I try to remember the path that they are leading me on, my mind gets terribly confused and I can't remember how many different turns we have taken.

Soon enough, we arrive outside of a door that looks just like all of the others that we have passed along the way. The moment the guard opens it for me, the familiar smell from inside washes over me and I realize that we were back in the same room as before. I feel my pulse quicken though when I see a stretcher placed in the center of the room instead of the metal chair. This means I won't just be having a simple conversation this time…

President Snow is nowhere to be found, but I manage to spot two doctors moving around the room, preparing an IV next to the bed.

"Welcome Peeta," Snow's voice speaks from the ceilings again. So this is how it's going to be from now on? "Please lay down on the bed so we can begin our treatments. If you refuse, please understand that we will continue with the procedure anyway, so it is best to do as we ask."

The guards release my arms, but hover a few feet away, and I walk to the stretcher and sit down. "What type of procedure is this going to be?" I ask him in a worried voice.

There is a pause, and I assume that he is trying to find the best choice of words. This makes me even more nervous. "We plan to, help you deal with some of your memories, so to speak," he says, and I'm puzzled, "This way, you are more equipped to help the Capitol's cause."

Before I have time to protest, one of the doctors has pricked my arm with a needle and secure the IV in the crook of my elbow. The other doctor forces my shoulders backwards and lays me flat on the bed. I only just feel the buckles lock shut around me when the pain sears through me like burning coals.

I cry out, straining desperately against the bed, but these straps hold me tightly down and there's nothing that I can do to stop the pain. I scream in agony, the white ceiling beginning to spin and dance in front of my eyes. A doctor leans over to check my pulse, but his face is distorted somehow and I watch as his hands morph into long, sharp claws. What is going on? What is happening to me?

The walls begin to emit an eerie fog that creeps down from the ceiling, threatening to swallow me up. By this point, I am hyperventilating, but I have no effort left in me to pull against my restraints. My muscles have turned to complete jelly, for the pain is everywhere now, burrowing deep down into my nerves. I feel the pain start to pull me under and the corners of my eyes begin to sparkle, a sign that I am going to become unconscious any second now. Right before I do, the fog that has been inching towards me turns to a thick black wave, crashing down on me, only adding to the pain.

Now I'm submerged within my memories, like a dream. I mean, I guess that's what's happening, because I can't quite remember how I got here. It's like I'm sitting in front of a television screen, watching all of my memories scroll by. But something is… different. I can't exactly place it, but the memories seem to have shifted; telling me a different story now.

From somewhere very far away, I can hear a muffled voice speaking my name, but it sounds as if I'm trapped underwater, and I struggle to hear it.

"Peeta," it says in a slow, garbled voice, "This is part of your treatment. Please, just relax, it is almost over now."

I don't know who is speaking, or what they mean, because now I'm trapped, watching images that I would have never believed possible. Yet here I am, seeing them pass before my eyes. And if they are in my mind, then they must be true.

I'm back inside the arena with Katniss, but everything about her has changed. I watch as she takes people down with her arrows, one by one, a look of pure pleasure in her eyes. How could I have possibly missed this? I have deluded myself into believing that she was protecting me, when she actually enjoyed the games… they were like a sport to her.

And all those times when faked a kiss to "protect" the people of Panem? I remember clearly now how she always made sure there was a camera in sight, and how she craved the attention. I had always accepted that she was doing these things for the benefit of our nation, but not realized until now that I was just a trophy to her. It meant nothing.

I barely have time to recover from these realizations when another memory hits me. The image itself is only a mess of cloudy colors, but I can hear people talking very clearly. After a moment, I realize that this must have been while I was being healed, when I first arrived here.

"She is now a mutt," President Snow says from somewhere around me. So blunt, so direct. I listen closer to determine who they are speaking of. "The rebels of 13 have altered her, as we have done to citizens before. But this is different. She is now a killing machine, hell-bent on destroying the Capitol and anyone who stands in her way. She is not doing anything on her own any longer. All decisions are being made by someone higher up. She is merely following orders. She is much more dangerous than we first assumed. This is a different girl."

The longer I listen, the more disgusted I become. It doesn't take me long to realize that they are referring to Katniss. A mutt? I can't believe it, I can't believe she would let them do that to her so willingly. I don't want to think about it.

More and more memories pass; memories that I must have been suppressing, for each one makes me remember the situation differently. I look at Katniss and so many other things with new eyes. I don't even have time to take it all in before it all begins to fade away, taking me with it.


End file.
